Subsequent Casualty
by ChrisR
Summary: Max and 99 investigate when a series of Control agents die mysteriously after seeming to have recovered from serious injuries.


My Get Smart stories are set during the 1970s - after the original series but before the reunions. Max and 99 are married, Thaddeus is still the Chief, the twins are sometimes mentioned but seldom seen. In other words, not much has changed - ChrisR.  
  
  
  
SUBSEQUENT CASUALTY  
  
A shot rang out accross the old warehouse. From behind a stack of crates, Maxwell Smart fired a volley of shots back, reflexively emptying his revolver. Max stood up.  
  
"You'd better give yourself up, Kruther!" he yelled. "The place is surrounded by forty Control agents!"  
  
"I find that pretty hard to believe!" Kruther yelled back from behind his crate.  
  
"Would you believe Control agent 40?"  
  
"Forget it, Smart!"  
  
"How about Cool McCool?" Max persisted.  
  
"Try Lancelot Link," suggested the agent next to him.  
  
Max stopped and stared at him, his pained expression clearly indicating that such advice was not welcome."You haven't got a chance, Kruther!" he yelled instead.  
  
For answer, Kruther merely fired another shot at him.  
  
"Okay, maybe one chance," he remarked to his fellow Control agent. When he did not respond, Max looked at him more closely. "28? Are you alright?"  
  
Agent 28 groaned and displayed his sleeve, a red stain slowly spreading through it.  
  
"You've been shot," Max said.  
  
"It's only a flesh wound, 86," 28 insisted bravely. "I'll be okay."  
  
Satisfied, Max turned his attention back to Kruther, the dangerous Kaos agent.  
  
"This is you're last chance, Kruther," he warned, shouting a warning. To his surprise, there was no reply from Kruther; only silence from the other end of the warehouse.  
  
"Kruther seems to be playing possum," said Max to 28. "I'd better check it out. Are you sure you're all right?"  
  
"I'll be fine, 86," 28 assured him, pulling himself up to a sitting position.  
  
"Okay." Glancing protectively at Agent 28, Max cautiously stood up and edged toward the crate that Kruther had been shooting from. There was no one there.  
  
Max made his way back to 28. He noted that his fellow agent was now standing up, albeit holding his bleeding arm in a painful manner. "Kruther's not there," Max told him.  
  
"He's gotta be in here," 28 grunted. "He must be hiding."  
  
Max agreed. Aided by the fast-recovering 28, he conducted a thorough search of the warehouse; overturning every barrel, checking every crate, every possible hiding place - only to find it completely deserted.  
  
Defeated, the two men looked at each other. They made their way to the large freight doors and emerged from the building, walking across the short courtyard outside.  
  
Max flashed the word to the nearest of the forty Control agents surrounding it.  
  
"He's gone."  
  
  
  
Act I  
  
"I don't understand it, Chief," Max complained several days later, back at Control headquarters. "How could Kruther have just disappeared out of that warehouse from right under my nose?"  
  
"He probably just escaped through a trap-door or hid until you left," the Chief replied simply.  
  
"But that's impossible, Chief," Max asserted. "I searched that warehouse personally."  
  
"I know, Max."  
  
Max stared at the Chief through narrowed eyes as he continued.  
  
"Now, Max, something very strange has happened - that's what I called you here to tell you."  
  
"Well, what, Chief?"  
  
"Agent 28 is dead."  
  
"What's so strange about that? We've all gotta go sometime," Max philosophised.  
  
The Chief sighed. "Max, the doctors who removed the bullet from 28's arm said that he was completely recovered."  
  
"That's right, Chief," said Max, remembering. "Why, he even had dinner with 99 and me last week and that was only three days after we lost Kruther." He paused, thinking. "Well . . . what did 28 die from?"  
  
"The bullet wound."  
  
"But you just said that 28 was completely recovered."  
  
"He was. I even put him back on active duty."  
  
Max shook his head, confused. "Then how could he have died from the bullet wound?"  
  
"Well, that's what it'll say on the death certificate," the Chief told him, "but, actually, we just don't know. There were no marks on his body, no symptoms of any disease, no traces of poison. Nothing at all except the healed wound on his arm."  
  
"I see," Max said slowly. "So 28 was shot but didn't die until nine days later."  
  
"Right."  
  
"Well, that is strange," Max admitted.  
  
"It gets even stranger," the Chief went on. "It's come to our attention that 28 was the fourth agent to die after seeming to have recovered from a serious injury."  
  
"Were they all shot?"  
  
"No, 55 was stabbed, 39 was in an automobile accident and 48 fell out of his hammock."  
  
Max's mouth opened. "Fell out of his hammock?"  
  
"He was on the third floor balcony."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"And each time the victim sustained serious injuries, recovered within a week, and then died of no apparent cause."  
  
"Well, what has all this got to do with me?" Max asked.  
  
"It has to do with that Kaos agent you and 28 were trying to capture," the Chief said. "Kruther. He has been observed at the scene each time."  
  
"Then you think that Kaos has something to do with these deaths?"  
  
The Chief nodded. "Undoubtedly."  
  
"How do you think they're doing it?"  
  
"That's what you and 99 are going to find out," the Chief replied. "I've got agents all over Washington looking for Kruther. As soon as he's spotted I want you to follow him. See where he goes, who he meets."  
  
"Right, Chief."  
  
The telephone rang. The Chief picked up the receiver. "Control. Chief speaking . . . Good." He hung up. That was Agent 45. Kruther is at the airport."  
  
  
  
Max and 99 sauntered casually yet carefully into the airport building. Over the loudspeaker, a voice was announcing the arrival of a flight from Europe.  
  
"Keep your eyes peeled for any sign of Kruther, 99."  
  
"Right, Max."  
  
Max scanned the crowd. His attention was caught by two men talking animatedly as they walked through the terminal.  
  
"You know, Dick, air travel today is amazing," one of them was saying. Max's eagle eye noticed that he had a moustache. "With the supersonic planes they have now you could fly from Washington to L.A. and arrive there two hours before you leave here."  
  
"I didn't know that," replied his companion in surprise. "Say, Dan, when we get to Athens remind me to pick up a Greek urn, will ya?"  
  
Dan frowned. "What's a Greek urn?"  
  
"About a buck-and-a-half an hour," Dick told him as they disappeared into the passenger lounge.  
  
Max turned back to 99. "Do you see him?"  
  
"No, do you?"  
  
"No. We better check with 45."  
  
"Where is 45?"  
  
"She's at the rent-a-car desk."  
  
The sign proclaimed the Aphis Rent-a-Car Agency. Max and 99 approached the desk setting a brisk, business-like pace.  
  
"We'd like to rent a car," Max told her.  
  
"That's strange. Most people ask for elephants."  
  
"Very funny," Max replied drily. "Now are you going to stand there doing jokes or are you going to help us?"  
  
"Very well, sir. What model car did you have in mind?"  
  
"Well, I was thinking of a late model Buick - say 1986."  
  
"86?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
45 lowered her voice. "Kruther got on a plane for Hawaii ten minutes ago."  
  
"How do you know?"  
  
"I overheard him arranging flight insurance at the next desk."  
  
"Good work, 45."  
  
  
  
The ride from Honolulu International Airport was uneventful. As they emerged from the shuttle bus, 99 looked about her wide-eyed. "I forgot what a beautiful city Honolulu is!" she gushed. "Wouldn't this be a wonderful place for a second honeymoon?"  
  
"Yes," Max agreed, "but we don't have time to think about that now, 99. First we have to figure out where Kruther is hiding out."  
  
"Why don't we check out all the hotels in the city and see if anyone fitting Kruther's description is staying at one of them?"  
  
Max frowned, thinking hard. "I've got an idea, 99," he said. "Why don't we check out all the hotels in the city and see if anyone fitting Kruther's description is staying at one of them?"  
  
99 smiled sweetly. "Good thinking, Max."  
  
  
  
Max stopped in front of a seedy hotel named The Ritz Arms Inn. He checked the name off on the page torn from the Yellow Pages. He'd already crossed off three-quarters of the names with no sign of Kruther; he hoped that 99 was having better luck with her share. He refolded the paper and pocketed it, making his way to the door.  
  
The lobby was dimly lit. A musty aura hung in the air. Max stepped up to the desk.  
  
The desk-clerk eyed him. "Yes?" he said darkly.  
  
"I'd like to know if a man is staying here," Max said.  
  
"There usually is," said the desk-clerk. "Several in fact."  
  
"No, I meant a particular man."  
  
"If he was particular he wouldn't be staying here."  
  
Max shook his head in disbelief. "You don't understand," he tried again. "I want to know if this man is registered at this hotel." He gave the clerk Kruther's description.  
  
"What's it to you?"  
  
"Well," said Max, "let's just say I'm trying to locate an old friend."  
  
"I can't just give out information on people who may be clients to anyone who comes in here."  
  
Max reached inside his jacket and withdrew his wallet. He handed the clerk a ten dollar bill. "Maybe this'll help you change you mind."  
  
The clerk's eyes lit up as he accepted the money. "No," he said.  
  
"What do you mean 'no'?" Max demanded angrily.  
  
"I mean 'no, he's not staying here'".  
  
"Oh," said Max, then, "You mean I gave you ten dollars and I still don't know where he is?"  
  
"Well, now you know where he isn't."  
  
"If there's anything I can't stand it's a crook that can't be trusted," Max muttered as he turned away.  
  
The door had barely closed behind him when a jingling sound erupted from the area of his feet. Curious passers-by looked around for the source of the noise. Max attempted to disassociate himself from it by aiming a superior expression at anyone who stared at him. Eventually, he came to a quiet alley which he entered. Out of sight, he reached down and removed his shoe-phone. The ringing stopped as he flipped down the mouthpiece.  
  
Max: Smart here.  
  
99: It's me, Max.  
  
Max: Oh, hi, 99. What's up?  
  
99: I found him, Max?  
  
Max: Found who?  
  
99 (in surprise): Kruther.  
  
Max: Oh, yes, of course.  
  
99: He's here at The Kahmangeddit Hotel on Fourth and Sunset. I'm calling from the lobby.  
  
Max: Does Kruther know you're there?  
  
99: No. I told the desk-clerk that he was an old friend and we wanted to surprise him.  
  
Max: Okay, 99. I'll be right over and we'll try to get a room near his so we can keep him under observation.  
  
99: Right, Max.  
  
  
  
99 paced impatiently in front of The Kahmangeddit Hotel, glancing at her watch. When she saw Max she walked up to meet him.  
  
"What took you so long, Max?" she asked plaintively. "I've been waiting here for nearly an hour."  
  
"Well, I got the directions a little mixed up."  
  
"But I told you I was at The Kahmangeddit Hotel on Fourth and Sunset."  
  
"I thought you said the Sunset Hotel on Eighth and Carmen."  
  
"Max, there is no Carmen Street."  
  
"Well, I know that now, 99"  
  
99 rolled her eyes and frowned.  
  
"Well, let's go inside and check in," Max said.  
  
They opened the double glass doors and stepped in onto plush carpet.  
  
"That's the same desk-clerk I spoke to before," 99 whispered.  
  
They walked up to the front desk.  
  
"We'd like a room, please," said Max.  
  
"This is my husband," 99 explained.  
  
The clerk regarded them suspiciously. "Are you sure you're married?"  
  
"Why would we want to share a room if we weren't married?" Max asked seriously.  
  
"House rules," the clerk insisted. "I gotta see some proof."  
  
"Well, how about this," Max suggested. ". . . Ask me my name."  
  
"What's your name?" the clerk said mechanically.  
  
"Maxwell Smart," Max replied. "Now ask her."  
  
"What's your name?" the clerk repeated dully.  
  
"Mrs. Maxwell Smart," said 99.  
  
The clerk decided that this was proof enough. "Sign here," he directed, pushing the register toward Max. Max signed.  
  
"I'll give you the room next to your friend," the clerk said with the air of one making a large sacrifice.  
  
"Thank you very much," said 99 with a sarcasm which escaped him.  
  
The clerk gave Max the key.  
  
  
  
"So far, so good," said Max, settling into a large armchair.  
  
99 sat on the bed. "Right, we've found Kruther," she said. "Now all we have to do is keep an eye on him."  
  
"We'll wait 'til he leaves his room and then search it," said Max. "Then, when he comes back, we'll have the evidence we need to arrest him."  
  
"But, Max, he hasn't been here very long. What if there isn't anything in his room?"  
  
"Well, then we'll keep watching him until he makes his move or contacts someone."  
  
"How do you know he hasn't already made his contact?"  
  
"Why, for the very reason that he hasn't been here very long, 99."  
  
"What if he contacts someone while he's out?" 99 worried.  
  
"They'll still have to come back here," Max said reasonably.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"To get whatever's in the room."  
  
99 furrowed her brow, trying to unravel Max's impenetrable logic.  
  
"Try to relax, 99. We may be in for a long wait."  
  
"I know, Max, but I can't help thinking that it's been almost too easy. Normally we would've had some interference from Kaos by now. Surely one of their agents has spotted us and spread the word."  
  
"99, I guarantee that Kruther has absolutely no idea that we're here."  
  
  
  
"Kruther? This is Schmitt," said the desk-clerk, now speaking in a low, accented voice into the house telephone. "Smart and his wife are in the room next to you."  
  
  
  
"99! I hear his door opening."  
  
"You're right, Max."  
  
Max stood up and tip-toed across the room to the door. He put his face close to the door and opened it a crack, banging himself on the nose.  
  
"Ouch!" he cried out in pain.  
  
"Shh!" 99 cautioned. Max turned around and glared at her.  
  
Outside, Kruther pretended not to notice him as he continued along the hall and down the stairs.  
  
Max turned back to the door and peered through the crack. "He's gone, 99. Now's our chance."  
  
"Right, Max." 99 followed Max out and they both skulked along the hall the few feet to the door of the next room. Max opened the door and peered inside. A shoe sailed out and glanced off his forehead.  
  
"Sorry about that," said Max. He closed the door. Turning to 99, he added, "Wrong room."  
  
They moved back along the hall, stopping in front of the door on the other side of their own.  
  
Max tried the doorknob. "It's locked," he reported. He turned to 99. "Do you have a hairpin?"  
  
"No, I don't."  
  
"You don't? I thought girls always wore hairpins."  
  
"Not when I've got my hair like this, Max. You see, this is called-"  
  
"99, this is not the time to be discussing your hair-do. We're trying to open Kruther's door," he reminded her.  
  
"Oh, well, I have a pick, Max."  
  
Max stared at her. "Why didn't you tell me that before? Never mind," he added, cutting her off, "just give it to me."  
  
99 withdrew the small tool from her handbag and handed it to Max, who inserted it into the lock. He manipulated it for several seconds before they heard a click.  
  
Max removed the pick, smiling triumphantly, and handed it back to 99. He turned the knob and swung the door open - and they found themselves staring down the barrels of two automatic revolvers.  
  
  
  
Act II  
  
The larger of the two burly gunmen motioned with his weapon for Max and 99 to enter the room. They did so, their hands raised. The second thug closed the door behind them. Both kept their pistols trained on the two Control agents.  
  
"So," said Max, "if it isn't Arfman and Bowers. Kaos must think that this is very important if it sends two of its best killers after us."  
  
"The best," said Arfman. "Your guns, please."  
  
Reluctantly, Max removed his gun from his shoulder-holster and 99 took hers from her purse. Bowers came from behind and took the guns.  
  
"Now, sit down over there," Arfman continued, indicating two upright chairs.  
  
"And what if we refuse?" Max asked beligerantly.  
  
"Then we put you down," said Arfman, brandishing his revolver.  
  
"Oh." Faced with these alternatives, Max and 99 went and sat down. In a matter of minutes, they were tied securely to the chairs with thick ropes and their hands and feet bound tightly.  
  
Max glanced at 99, then glared at their captors. "All right," he said angrily. "I've had just about enough of this. I've just got one question to ask and then we're taking you in."  
  
The two Kaos agents looked at each other and laughed. "How can you take us in when you're tied up and we're holding the guns?" asked Arfman.  
  
"That was my question," Max said sheepishly.  
  
"What do you plan to do about us?" 99 enquired icily.  
  
"Well, my dear," said Arfman, "we'll have to kill you, of course."  
  
"You're just going to shoot us in cold blood?" 99 looked at the guns still pointed at them.  
  
"Nothing so crude," said Arfman. "We have something much more ingenious in mind. Look up there."  
  
Max and 99 did. Suspended above their heads was a huge glass chandelier.  
  
"Precisely five minutes after we leave, that chandelier will be released. The glass will cut you to ribbons." Arfman paused for effect. "Then the ropes will be removed and it will look like an accident. Your other agents had no advance knowledge of the little accidents we arranged," he said, "so, in your case, if you should survive, you'll be given our trusty new improved amnesia pills. They should last until . . . well, you know what happened to your other agents."  
  
"You've been very thorough, my friend," Max admitted, "but as usual you've overlooked one small detail."  
  
"And what might that be?" Arfman asked.  
  
"When the cops come in here and find our bodies and they see the rope burns on our wrists they'll know we were tied up."  
  
"Not at all," Arfman replied. "These ropes are made of a new ultrasoft fiber. They won't leave a mark on your skin no matter how much they rub."  
  
"Really?" 99 cried out, suddenly excited. "Does it also come as a fabric?"  
  
"Why?" asked Arfman guardedly.  
  
"Well, Max has been having this little chafing problem lately so I thought- "  
  
"99!" Max interrupted through gritted teeth  
  
"Don't worry," Arfman said ominously, "he won't be having that problem for much longer."  
  
Max and 99 looked at each other uneasily.  
  
"Do you have any last requests?" asked Arfman.  
  
"Yes," said Max. "Perhaps you could tell us how you killed those agents."  
  
Arfman smiled wickedly."You'll find out soon enough when it happens to you."  
  
"Oh. Well, maybe you can tell us how you knew we were here; how you happened to be ready and waiting for us."  
  
Arfman shrugged. "Why not? It so happens that Schmitt, the desk-clerk, is one of our men."  
  
"So we were spotted," said Max. He turned to 99. "And don't tell me you tried to warn me."  
  
"Well, I did try to warn you, Max."  
  
"I asked you not to tell me that."  
  
"We better get going," said Bowers, speaking for the first time. "We have to meet Kruther at Tikitaki in fifteen minutes."  
  
Arfman glanced at his watch. Bowers opened the door and left. Arfman paused in the open doorway. "This switch turns on the lights in the chandelier," he told them. "It also sets up an electric charge which will disintegrate the support in exactly five minutes." He threw the switch then, chuckling evilly, he left, closing the door behind him.  
  
"I guess this is it, Max."  
  
"Why do you always say that, 99?"  
  
"Well, I don't see any way out of this one."  
  
"It shouldn't be too difficult, 99. All we have to do is wriggle in the chairs and move out of the way of the chandelier."  
  
"But, Max - "  
  
"Not now, 99. We've got to get away from the chandelier." He began wriggling in his chair.  
  
"But, Max - "  
  
"99, will you get moving." Max began puffing as his wriggling was having no effect.  
  
"But, Max, the chairs are bolted to the floor."  
  
Max stopped wriggling and stared at the floor.  
  
"I noticed it when they tied us up," 99 said. "All the furniture is. It must be a hotel security measure."  
  
"I guess this is it, 99."  
  
Above them, they heard a creaking as the chandelier started to give way.  
  
"Wait a minute!" cried Max. "My watch!"  
  
"What about it?"  
  
"It has a blade in the band." He struggled within his bonds. "If I can just get to the activating button," he gasped. There was a tiny click. "Now, if I can slice through the ropes . . ." He started suddenly. "Ouch!"  
  
"What happened? Did you cut yourself?" 99 asked worriedly.  
  
Max brought his hands to the front. "No, but I don't think I'll need to file my nails for a while." Using his blade he cut the ropes at his feet then stood up and freed 99. Together, they ran across the room. Behind them they heard a thunderous crash as the chandelier hit the chairs. Glass fragments scattered along the floor.  
  
"Max! Schmitt - or someone - will be coming up any minute."  
  
"Right, 99."  
  
They went and stood on either side of the door. Sure enough, they heard footsteps in the hall and the door opened. Schmitt came in. He barely had time to see the wreckage of the chandelier on the empty chairs before he received a karate chop on each side of his neck and collapsed unconcious onto the floor.  
  
"What are we going to do about him, Max?"  
  
"We'll get the local police to pick him up later. Right now we've got to catch up with Kruther and the others."  
  
"Right."  
  
Max and 99 raced down the stairs, through the lobby and fairly exploded out of the front doors into the street. As one, they bore down on a small sports car parked in front.  
  
"We're government agents," Max told the driver, flashing his I.D. card. "We're commandeering your car."  
  
"But, I . . ." As the driver hesitated, Max grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him out bodily, landing him flatly on the pavement. Max and 99 piled into the front seats, Max taking the wheel.  
  
"Don't worry," Max told the car's owner. "You'll be compensated for any damage." He gunned the engine and they disappeared, top speed, into traffic. The car's owner stared dazedly after them, still sitting on the footpath.  
  
  
  
"Where are we going?" asked 99.  
  
"Bowers said they were meeting Kruther at Tikitaki," Max replied. "That's in this direction."  
  
As Max drove, 99 took a miniature two-way radio from her purse. "What's the Honolulu police frequency, Max?"  
  
"I don't know. Look it up in your Trunk and Manual Frequency Directory."  
  
99 rummaged in her purse and took out a small booklet. Leafing through it, she found the frequency and adjusted the radio accordingly.  
  
"This is Control Agent 99 calling the Honolulu Police Department," she said into the microphone. When a metalic voice responded, she gave them the details of where they could find Schmitt and instructed them to hold him in maximum security.  
  
"Roger. Wilco. Ten-four," the metalic voice replied.  
  
"Ten-four?" repeated 99 in puzzlement.  
  
Max said nothing, concentrating on getting the car safely through traffic at speed.  
  
  
  
"Max! Up ahead. Is that them?"  
  
"I can't tell from this distance, 99. Use your bino-specs."  
  
"Right, Max."  
  
Out of 99's purse came what appeared to be two binocular lens assemblies mounted onto spectacle frames.  
  
She placed them on her nose and adjusted the focus. "It is them, Max. All three of them; they've picked up Kruther." She replaced the bino-specs in her purse.  
  
"Look, 99. They're turning up the mountain road."  
  
"Isn't that mountain actually a volcano?"  
  
"Most of them are in this area."  
  
Reaching the turn-off, Max brought the car around and started up the long and winding road which snaked around the volcanic mountain. On one side the sheer face rose up almost vertically; on the other it fell away to the ocean which stretched to the horizon.  
  
"Max!" 99 wailed as the car skidded on loose gravel, bringing it perilously close to the edge, "slow down!"  
  
"But they'll get away," Max protested.  
  
"They've got to go slow, too, Max," 99 pointed out.  
  
"Oh. Right, 99."  
  
And so it continued for what seemed like hours: both cars inching up the steady incline around the mountain at a snail's pace for fear of plummeting down the cliff face into the ocean below.  
  
They passed a road sign.  
  
"Ten miles per hour speed limit, Max," 99 reported, assuming the role of navigator.  
  
Max glanced at the speedometer. "Mmm. We're only doing seven - I better speed up."  
  
The chase continued but, Max, ever-so-gradually, brought the sports closer to the Kaos vehicle.  
  
"I think we're in range now," said 99. "I'll use my pocket three-caliber cannon."  
  
"Good idea, 99."  
  
99 reached yet again into her handbag and withdrew what appeared to be an ordinary fountain-pen. She removed the cap and the nib section before sighting down its length. When she was sure of her aim, she gently pulled out the lever. A small flash appeared and her body jerked slightly as she expertly braced against the recoil.  
  
The special non-explosive shell hit the car exactly on target, piercing the fuel tank.  
  
"Direct hit, 99," said Max proudly.  
  
For a few seconds, nothing appeared to happen. Then, sure enough, first a trickle then a steady flow of gasoline began pouring from the rear of the Kaos car. The vehicle shuddered, then ground to a halt. Max brought the sports to a stop beside it.  
  
"Keep them covered, 99," said Max as they opened their respective doors and stepped onto the road.  
  
"But you know the pocket cannon only fires one shell."  
  
"Shh, 99. I know it and you know it but they don't. Maybe we can bluff them into telling us how they killed those agents."  
  
"All right, Kruther," Max ordered, "out of the car. Come on, all of you. Make it snappy."  
  
Eyeing the weapon which had rendered their car useless, the Kaos trio slowly complied.  
  
"Now," Max continued, "your guns. Throw them over the edge."  
  
The men did so. One of the guns hit the edge of the cliff and bounced over with a clinking sound.  
  
Max couldn't resist smirking in triumph. "And you call yourselves intelligent spies," he mocked. "You fell for the old bluff-them-with-the- empty-cannon trick."  
  
"Max!" 99 cried. "Now how can we force them to tell us about the deaths of those agents?"  
  
Max's smile faded as those on the Kaos agents' faces widened. 99 shrugged and tossed the empty cannon into the car. The two sides faced each other unarmed.  
  
"Listen, Kruther," said Max. "I have a deal."  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"You tell us how you killed those agents and we'll take you back to stand trial."  
  
"You call that a deal?" Kruther snarled.  
  
"You're not too crazy about that deal," Max surmised. "Well, I have an alternate offer - "  
  
He was unable to complete the suggestion. His next words were drowned out by a deafening roar which seemed to come from the very earth. In fact it did - the whole mountain, the ground they stood upon, rumbled and shook violently.  
  
"What was that?" 99 asked.  
  
"I know what it was," said Bowers. He glanced about fearfully. "It's the volcano erupting. We'll be buried alive in boiling lava."  
  
Max and 99 looked at each other. Arfman and Bowers were visibly shaking; both cowered in terror. An odd change from the men who had been so tough at The Kahmangeddit Hotel earlier that afternoon. Kruther was also ashen-faced but remained calmer and more in control than his subordinates.  
  
There was another roar from the vocano; the ground shook and, above them, puffs of smoke appeared from the cratered top.  
  
Max smiled. Even to 99, this seemed an odd reaction but his next utterance explained it. "I've got another deal, Kruther," he said slowly, "and it's an offer you can't refuse. Your car won't work. You tell us how you killed those agents and we'll take you down in ours. If you don't then we'll just fight it out here until the volcano erupts."  
  
"Never," Kruther said stubbornly, but Arfman was screaming,  
  
"I'll tell! I'll tell!"  
  
"Shut up, you fool," rasped Kruther. He took a swing at Arfman but Bowers interposed and Arfman crossed to Max and 99 for protection.  
  
"All right, Arfman, spill it," Max commanded.  
  
"But the volcano - take us down," Arfman pleaded.  
  
"First the information," Max said stonily.  
  
"But, Max . . ." 99 began.  
  
"No, 99. We're gonna get what we came for."  
  
"All right," mumbled Arfman in panic. "It was done with our portable bio- irradiation projector - it's Kaos's newest weapon in the battle against the forces of goodness. You'll remember that all your agents who were affected had actual bodily injuries. The PBP works by accelerating the healing processes to the point of overload resulting in rapid deterioration of body systems. And it's virtually undetectable in an autopsy unless the coroner knows exactly what to look for."  
  
"Traitor," snarled Kruther.  
  
Arfman looked up. "Now will you please hurry."  
  
Max smiled at him calmly. "That won't be necessary," he said. "The volcano isn't going to erupt."  
  
The others looked about them. It was true. The sky had cleared and the ground was still. 99 gazed at Max; her eyes welled with pride as he went on.  
  
"Now," he said, "I'm sure you'll understand if we don't trust you completely. 99, give them each a knock-out pill."  
  
99 took her handbag from the car. One last time she reached into it and withdrew the required item.  
  
Defeated and weakened by fear, Arfman and Bowers took their knock-out pills without a fight. Kruther offered token opposition but was held down by Max as 99 forced the pill down his throat.  
  
The drug worked quickly. Soon they were all sound asleep in the back seat as Max steered the car slowly back down the hill.  
  
In the front seat, 99 turned to Max. "There's just one thing I don't understand," she said. "How did you know that the volcano wouldn't erupt?"  
  
"It's really quite simple, 99," Max replied. "You see I happened to remember reading that Mount Xardalei rumbled every week but never actually erupted."  
  
"But, Max . . . this is Mount Yanalua."  
  
  
  
The End 


End file.
